After the heaving winds of Winter
blow across the face of Earth
dropping heavy rains in ceaseless floods,
the blazing winds of Summer force heat waves
upon plains and forests and fire up
an atmosphere of heat and drought.
The plants in my garden are anchored
beyond the sound of my pleading voice
begging them to live , if not for me,
then for every butterfly and bee
as if Earth might survive
by some miracle, as have I;
beyond cancer scares and chronic ME,
and fibromyalgia that brings me to my knees.
Yet, like Earth I continue to survive
and even thrive.
No future generations of my DNA
will I leave behind, but seeds
that blow on restless winds and bury their heads
in fertile soil across the garden I have spread,
and breed new life in a new garden
long after I am gone.
This may be my only immortality.
Or, perhaps there is more
in a place yet unseen but hoped for in my dreams,
built on faith and fed by love
Felt in such ecstasy of our union,
its solidarity a true communion
where we explore the truth that
we are not alone, anymore.
The whole world, not merely Earth
is ours to explore,
building hopeful memories to outlast
the fear of loneliness from the past.
Our loving connection gives such strength
even death cannot break the bonds
of love and life meant to survive an eternity.
We are in this together, you and I.
One thing I know for sure;
like the garden, our love will never die.
annarino writes 